


Purr-fect

by valancy_joy



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen, Monty the cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valancy_joy/pseuds/valancy_joy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James seems to be a cat person. So what if Robbie kept Monty? It might be a bit like this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purr-fect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Lewis Summer Challenge 2012

James takes to Monty right away. Robbie wonders why this surprises him. James hadn’t even blinked when Monty had stalked into the kitchen and pounced on his foot, chasing after a flapping shoelace. “I’ve always been a cat person,” says James with a shrug, as he kneels to re-tie his shoelace, scratches behind Monty’s ears, and goes about filling Lewis in on their newest case.

Robbie pretends to mind when James feeds Monty tidbits from his own meals. But he smiles whenever he sees James bend over and scratch that favorite spot behind the cat’s ears, and laughs when James leaves after an evening of takeaway at Lewis’ flat, his trousers covered in cat hair.

James just starts keeping lint rollers everywhere.

Robbie finds himself smirking, when he stumbles towards his kitchen one morning, with half a glance towards the couch where James had fallen asleep the night before. James is fast asleep on the sofa, one bright socked foot hanging over the sofa arm. In the middle of his chest, curled up and purring, is Monty.

On Boxing Day, James shows up with a bottle of good whisky for Lewis. And, as it turns out, a catnip mouse for Monty. Lewis comes back into the lounge with the drinks and finds James kneeling on the floor in front of the chair Monty has claimed as his, dangling a toy mouse with a red bow tied on its tail in front of the cat who’s waving his front paws trying to catch it.

Whenever Robbie takes a few days to go to Manchester and see Lyn and her wee one, James is happy to cat sit.

“I would like to call this meeting to order,” he announces, tapping a fork on the side of the can of newly opened tuna. Monty sits and stares up at James, tail tip flicking.

“We’re his lost lads, you know,” James says crouching down and filling Monty’s bowl. “Hate to think where either of us’d be without him.”

Monty headbutts into James’ leg, and then gobbles up the food in his dish as James watches, and smiles.

Sometimes they find that only cure for a crap day is crap telly. They’ve done this for a while. But with the addition of Monty curled up comfortably between them, its a nice way to end even the crappest of days.

“There were always cats on the estate,” James says late on one of these nights, slumped down into his corner of the sofa, socked feet up on the coffee table, fingers twining gently through Monty’s fur. He’s on his third glass of wine, and his voice is loose and soft. He sighs and closes his eyes. “We used to play with them in the hay mow. Hide and seek. I always liked the little grey shadow cats. They were kind to me.” Robbie finds himself wanting to reach out, to offer comfort, but his hand can only join James’ in smoothing Monty’s fur. Monty tips his head back to get his chin scratched, and purrs, warm and happy between them.


End file.
